


Stiletto

by WeaglesAndBrobeans



Series: Stick and Puck [4]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Patty has thing for TKs nails, Ryanne is the best, TK gets his nails done, TK is a rat, Touch my head, like for halloween, play with my hair, slowish burn, there is definitely kinky sex in chapter two, this is super random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeaglesAndBrobeans/pseuds/WeaglesAndBrobeans
Summary: Now, standing at the top of the staircase, bass from the music below vibrating into his hand at the railing, TK felt hesitancy.Glancing over his shoulder, Ryanne stood with a broad grin as she admired her handiwork. “I’m telling you TK. Hot. As. Fuck.”___Or the one where TK gets his nails done
Relationships: Ryanne Breton/Claude Giroux, Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Series: Stick and Puck [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567933
Comments: 8
Kudos: 130





	1. Part One

“You look hot as fuck.”

TK rolled his eyes at the compliment and adjusted the headband tucked into his dark hair one last time. Ryanne had worked tirelessly for the past few hours caking his face in makeup. And that may not have taken too much time but dressing him in black, giving him a tail, pushing ears onto his head, and painting whiskers onto his cheeks apparently fell short. When he’d tried to escape she’d shoved him right back down onto his perch on the toilet. “Can’t skip the final touch,” she’d insisted.

Now, standing at the top of the staircase, bass from the music below vibrating into his hand at the railing, TK felt hesitancy.

Glancing over his shoulder, Ryanne stood with a broad grin as she admired her handiwork. “I’m telling you TK. Hot. As. Fuck.”

For a moment, TK managed to slide into the group unnoticed – which isn’t typically his MO, but neither were the sporadic waves of self-consciousness.

“YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!” roared Kevin. That’s all it took. His moment of respite vanished and soon various teammates were flicking at his ears and pulling at his tail and cackling in delight.

“I need a drink for this,” whined TK, but he cringed when Kevin bellowed towards no one in particular to ‘get the rat a drink.’

Wandering away TK found Nolan seated on the kitchen counter with his long legs swinging back and forth, heels drumming on the drawers below. Something about the glittering dodgers uniform made the taller man seem lankier than usual. Perhaps it was the glimmering white booty shorts hugging his hips and exposing his creamy thighs.

“What are you supposed to be?” TK drawled as he bent over to dig through the ice cooler on the floor. He stood with a triumphant grin and a can of Busch in his hand.

Nolan sneered at the can of beer and sipped whatever cocktail he’d concocted for himself. “I’m Harry Styles dressed Elton John,” he murmured, tone salted as if it should have been obvious. The giant rhinestone-laden gasses slipped down his nose and he shoved at them with the back of his hand. “You on the other hand,” he began before tapering off. Almost as if seeing TK for the first time that evening. A rouge traveled up his neck and settled onto his cheeks. “Decided to go the Mean Girls route and wear, what are those? Leggings? Teeks are you wearing leggings?”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” retorted TK. “Don’t change topics. Are you Elton John or are you Harry Styles?”

“I’m Harry Styles dressed as Elton John.”

“What the fuck? That doesn’t even make any sense! This is like fucking Michael Scott quoting himself quoting Gretzky!”

“I can have a costume inception.”

“A what?”

Before the petty fight could escalate, a bellow of laughter filled the room and someone was tugging at TK’s wrist.

“Your nails!” yelled JVR. “You let her do your nails?”

The entire thing reeked of poor timing as Nolan’s blush went deeper (which is unfair since TK happened to be the one facing public ridicule from the team at this moment) and Claude sauntered in.

The captain began to giggle with delight as he leaned in to see the black matte stiletto nails firmly attached to TK’s fingers. “She got you good bud,” he whistled. “Mon dieu. She got you good. Those last like two weeks Teeks.”

Provy snatched TK’s hand out of JVR’s grip so he could get a good look for himself. “Dude, my ex used to always have these. She would do that nail thing, you know? The nail thing where they spread their nails out on your knee and it fucking tickles?”

“You should do it to somebody,” JVR suggested, grin predatory.

“Yeah do it Patty!”

“Do the nail thing to Patty!”

Turning towards his best friend, TK noted again the deep blush filling his cheeks. More than normal. TK knows this stuff okay. He knows when it’s more than normal.

Nolan stuck his foot out to try to keep TK at a distance, but he just smirked and grabbed at the bony ankle, pulling it wide so he could step in closer before zeroing in on Patty’s kneecap. Slowly he moved his hand towards the exposed knee. Connecting the pointed tips of the nails at the center, TK slowly and lightly spread his fingers letting the nails graze feather-light over the skin. Goosebumps blossomed, but soon the spell was broken. Nolan jerked back with a grunt, simultaneously shoving TK away whilst grabbing wildly for him as the sudden movement launched him off the countertop.

It didn’t end well as the two landed in a heap of limbs with their teammates abandoning to pursue their next prey. 


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like Stiletto Part One. But Erotic.

TK woke up slowly to a pounding headache and a face full of hair. For a moment his brain warred between the exhaustion of his killer hangover and the exhilaration of being pressed in close to his best friend.

Peeling open his eyes, TK glanced around to see that he and Nolan had crashed on Claude’s massive leather couch. It was comfy and all, but he had to cringe as his sweat-slick arm peeled off the leather. Gross.

Despite wanting to go seek out a shower, he couldn’t bring himself to shift the 6 foot 2 teddy bear he was wrapped around. Instead, he reached up and began to scratch at the tempting scalp with those long artificial nails he was apparently going to be stuck with.

After a few minutes of tracing random patterns, he felt Nolan stir against him. Which, could be a problem. TK jerked his hand back so as not to get caught playing with his buddy’s hair, but squeaked in surprise when a sure hand reached back and grabbed his wrist.

Nolan didn’t say a word. He simply directed TK's hand back to his head, scooted his glitter-clad hips back more snugly against his friend and gradually drifted back to sleep.

Later that afternoon, TK wandered into the Giroux’s kitchen, hair wet from a shower and energy back at full force. He and Nolan made eye contact for a moment, but neither mentioned their little cuddle sesh. Regardless, TK couldn’t resist scratching Nolan’s head as he squeezed behind him to get to the fridge. He preened at the deep blush that followed.

TK didn’t mind his nails. In fact, the response they continued to draw out of Nolan thrilled him. But they weren’t exactly convenient. The first time he tried to tie his shoes with the nails on, he felt incredibly clumsy. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a Catch-22. Keep the nails and continue to pester Nolan or find a way to rip them off so he wouldn’t lose his job as the one who gets to tie things for Nolan.

Just like the absolute idiot that he knew himself to be, TK spent two and half hours tying ties and shoes and skates and anything else he could find to tie until he’d mastered the art of functioning with pointed claws.

When their next practice rolled around he’d grown so accustomed to the nails, they didn’t seem to inhibit him in any way. As the group sat, waiting to watch tape before transitioning to an on-ice practice, TK snatched Nolan’s hand and began tracing the lines on his palm. Light little strokes across the indents in his huge hand. TK liked the way Nolan would twitch from time to time. Almost as much as he liked that Nolan _let_ him trace his palm. He carried on until Kevin plopped down next to Nolan and leaned way into their space.

“Have we graduated to hand-holding boys?” he bellowed in the only volume Kevin Hayes seemed to be capable of.

The two flinched, but TK felt stubborn so he refused to release Nolan’s wrist.

Deep crimson crept up Nolan’s neck as he shot a glare towards his housemate. “Fuck off Kev,” he mumbled. Which was the expected response. What TK hadn’t expected was Nolan’s quiet addition of “it feels good.”

Delight and pride surged through TK even as Kevin hooted with glee. “Oh I bet it does,” Kevin retorted with a vicious grin.

Coach calling the group to attention couldn’t have been any timelier.

They’ve done this before. Plenty of nights involved drinking and video games and concluded with drunkenly passing out in TK’s bed together.

But _this._ This has never happened before.

A groan awoke TK in the dead of the night. His head still fuzzy with sleep and the remnants of his buzz, it took a moment for him to snap to attention. Nolan was moaning in his sleep. Moaning _TK’s_ name. Unable to resist, TK reached out and dragged one finger down Nolan’s bare spine. “Patty,” TK hissed breathily as Nolan’s hips snapped downwards towards the mattress in response to the sensation.

For just a moment, TK hesitated. He would never take advantage of a sleeping Nolan. And they hadn’t ever done this before. At all. The right thing to do battled with the fucking sexy and alluring thing to do and the best TK could come up with was waking Nolan.

Shaking his shoulder vigorously, he hissed again. “Patty. Patty, dude, wake up.”

It took a moment, but eventually Nolan’s head snapped from facing away from TK, to glaring at him full on. This is his new favorite Patty face, TK decided. Sleepy and pissy and flushed with arousal.

Without saying a word, TK reached out and dragged his nails across Nolan’s broad shoulders. Nolan bit his lip and face planted in the pillow with a deep groan, his hips snapping again.

TK grinned, feral. “No hiding,” he commanded. “Turn over.”

He pushed at Nolan’s shoulder until he complied warily, eyes narrow.

Now that his chest was accessible, TK began drawing feather light patterns along his pecks and down to his abs and back. Nolan stayed quiet, but his breathing quickened and his hips kept squirming now that he had nothing to press against.

TK had begun amused and playful, but something about Nolan’s sensual reaction had lit a fire in his belly. It had become a challenge to see what reactions he could draw out. So he dragged a pointed nail over Nolan’s left nipple.

“Fuck!” Nolan cried out, throwing his arm over his face to hide in his elbow.

“No,” TK admonished. “Don’t hide. I wanna see.”

The order sent a shiver through Nolan. And though TK couldn’t fathom why, Nolan obeyed. Even in the darkness TK could see the deep flush of his cheeks and the raw bitten lip he’d been chewing on.

After tracing and scratching for a small while, TK decided he wanted more. Hands pausing at the waistband of the boxers Nolan had fallen asleep in, he glanced up. “Can I?”

A jerky nod of assent was all he needed. Once the fabric was lying on the floor, TK froze for a moment, just staring. This all felt really quick, but fuck. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want his mouth all over _that._ He had patience though. Well, some.

TK lightly dragged his nails down Nolan’s thighs, pausing at his knees to shove them roughly open. Nolan huffed in exasperation, but spread his legs all the wider so TK could crawl between them. This time, starting at the knees, he traced Nolan’s inner thighs up to his groin. Nolan’s face was back in his hands as he panted and tried to keep still. He’d managed it until TK traced one nail along the vein on his throbbing dick. The touch sent his hips jerking followed by a hoarse cry.

“TK, fuck!”

TK wanted a taste so he tipped forward to kiss and lap at Nolan’s hard-on all while tracing patterns in Nolan’s shaking thighs. Hungry for more, TK grabbed onto Nolan’s hips and pulled so he was on his back and Nolan was hovering over top of him, dick still pulsing in TK’s mouth. Sucking hard, he dragged his nails down Nolan’s ass and thighs. There’s no way it wasn’t going to leave a mark. The thought made TK’s own dick twitch.

Continuing to suck, TK relaxed his throat and let Nolan push deeper. He reached down and yanked on himself in time with Nolan’s thrusts. Reaching up with his free hand, TK scraped over Nolan’s nipple. That was all it took for Nolan to release and TK swallowed every fucking drop, his own load shooting off in tandem.

Nolan collapsed beside TK, panting as he peered over in the dark. After a moment he picked up TK’s hand and licked the jizz covered fingers, pressing so the point of the nails scraped over his tongue. TK groaned at that, but the fleeting thought hit his mind. Was Patty hot for him or for the nails?


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like Stiletto Part One, but angsty and soft.

TK’s thoughts continued down a discouraging path as he rinsed off in the shower. He’d felt too sticky to fall asleep, so here he was, agonizing over the single hottest night of his life under a stream of warm water.

Nolan had never really shown TK interest, not like this. Not until he got the nails. He huffed as his mind supplied “no one cared who I was until I put on the nails” in Bane’s voice from Batman. The amusement didn’t hold though. He’d liked Nolan since day fucking one. And tonight he finally got what he wanted, but his chest ached with fear. He wanted Nolan to want him for him. Not some weird kink he’d stumbled upon.

Drying off, TK pulled on a clean pair of boxers before crawling back into bed where a still nude Nolan Patrick lay drifting off. “Hey Patty, can we talk?” he asked, hand pushing hair off of Nolan’s face.

“No.”

With a sigh, TK turned over and curled in on himself. It took hours for him to finally fall back asleep.

In the morning, TK puttered into the kitchen, leaving Nolan asleep back in the bedroom. He put on a pot of coffee and dug into the fridge to pull out some eggs and vegetables. He could make a mean omelet. Eventually, as suspected, the smell of food managed to rouse Nolan and draw him out to the kitchen. Things seemed normal. Well, if it weren’t for the stress practically choking TK. If Nolan noticed his excessive fidgeting this morning, he didn’t mention it. Just sleepily wolfed down the omelet.

“Thanks for breakfast man,” he muttered.

TK couldn’t bear it anymore. “Patty last night,” he began, hesitating as Nolan sighed deeply. “Was it um. Was it me or my nails that turned you on?” That was weird. That came out weird. TK sped along, pouring on words like creamer to cover up the bitter taste of burnt coffee. “Cause like either is fine but my nails won’t always be around. I mean they could but that’s also kind of weird and I don’t think I would do it, not that I wouldn’t do anything for you, but,” he trailed off with a grimace.

Nolan stares at him incredulously for a moment, before glancing up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath. “Teeks, I’ve been awake for like, twenty minutes’ tops and I don’t like know what to say to that? I need a sec,” he mumbled.

TK shook his head agreeably, but his stomach had turned sour.

“Well um. Maybe give it a fucking thought bud cause. It kinda makes a difference.”

They’d never had a more awkward conversation.

That night the game began remarkably well. Patty had set up TK with the perfect saucer pass, tape to tape for TK to wrist one home early in the first.

The second period though, was shit. Passes were missing, and the back check was practically nonexistent. Hartsy was the only one keeping them in this one. During a rant for the books from AV, TK (like his hands had a mind of their own) found himself tracing patterns into Nolan’s tense shoulders.

The team came out of the gate strong for the third period and within just two minutes they had managed to tie things up. Hope and determination had settled in TK’s chest.

Giroux had passed the puck over to TK, but someone managed to get a stick on the puck, shifting its trajectory further out. TK lunged to coral the pass when a defenseman slashed down on TK’s outstretched hand. Immediately, fire burned up his fingers and hand, stick clattering to the ice. The pain sent TK to his knees.

Something was horribly wrong. For just a moment TK breathed, cradling his hand to his stomach. No whistle had blown though, which is horse shit. But hockey is hockey and he had a responsibility to his teammates to hustle to the bench for a change. Breathing deeply, TK pushed to his feet and rushed off the ice as quickly as possible. He ran straight down the tunnel.

The trainers stared, dubious, when he pulled off his glove to reveal two mangled faux nails.

“TK what the fuck is this?”

“Halloween costume. Lasted longer than I thought it would,” he whines, battling too much pain to feel properly ashamed about the moment.

They determine that the ring finger had broken, and that the real nail was torn beneath the faux nail due to the impact of the stick.

“We’re going to have to soak the nails off which is going to hurt like hell, but it’s the only way to reveal and care for the damage underneath,” he’d been told.

They sent an intern to run to the closest drug store because of course, they didn’t have acetone.

The trainer sat down and gently explained the process as he clipped the nails, gently rubbing petroleum jelly to TK’s cuticles and fingers before soaking cotton balls, one at a time, in acetone. He methodically placed each cotton ball on a nail before wrapping it in aluminum foil. “This is a first for me,” he chuckled as he worked. TK would have blushed, but the next cotton ball was placed on his ring finger. Immediately his finger flared with pain and he whimpered and groaned as the injured fingers were wrapped.

Once the nails were all sorted, he settled an ice pack atop the injured fingers and said he’d be back in twenty minutes. The period ended as he was pulling off the final nail.

Nolan begged off of media duty and pushed his way into the training room to find an ashen TK biting his lip in pain. Stepping closer, Nolan winced as he caught sight of TK’s finger. It’s bent backwards and his nail was sluggishly bleeding, split down the center.

“Fuck,” Nolan breathed as he looked at the mangled finger.

TK, hurting and tired and still wounded from that morning’s conversation, found he couldn’t hold back his words.

“Yeah the fun's over Patty,” he bit out, stomach churning with self-pity.

Nolan wasn’t given a chance to reply because the trainer chose that moment to reset TK’s finger. The smaller forward choked on an anguished wail.

TK’s mind fogged with pain and sadness, so it took a moment for him to recognize Nolan stepping in to him, chest solid and warm at his back as his hand pulled at the curls near TK’s nape to ground him. He shuddered and clinched his eyes closed.

They’re given a brief moment of privacy as the trainer wandered off to fetch a fresh pack of ice and Nolan doesn’t waste the moment. He quickly tipped TK’s chin up, demanding eye contact with the gesture. “I thought about it,” he mumbled.

TK flinched, but Nolan pressed on. “It’s not the nails TK.”

TK’s eyes widened as Nolan gripped TK’s mess of hair and pressed a bruising kiss to his lips.


End file.
